


Angry Birds

by orphan_account



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-06
Updated: 2013-11-10
Packaged: 2017-12-28 14:31:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/992999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hulkeye drabbles that were requested on my tumblr :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Clint promised Bruce he would take him to the book store only if they went shopping after. And Bruce wasn’t really in a position to argue, considering he didn’t drive (road rage and such, you understand). He wanted to stay in the car while Clint went shopping, but if Clint was good at anything other than shooting arrows, it was whining.

Clint dragged Bruce’s ass to the store not shutting up even for a second. There store was indeed nearly empty. One or two soccer moms and some college students. Bruce could do this. 

Too bad he didn’t account for how exciting Clint found something as mundane as shopping. He kept asking Bruce for an opinion about a product, nudging him to get his attention, touching his elbow or his wrist. Bruce was confused and a little bit flustered, but didn’t ask Clint to stop. It felt nice. 

Clint was one of the few people Bruce had no problem touching or being touched by. It was probably the complete lack of inhibition he showed in his relations with Bruce. He treated him like he treated everyone else who wasn’t secretly a raging green monster bringing destruction everywhere it showed up. When Clint dealt with Bruce, he dealt with Bruce, the Hulk be damned. 

At first Bruce was suspicious of this behavior. Who in their right mind would just pretend The Other Guy wasn’t an issue? Tony Stark was one thing, but a highly respected agent of SHIELD? But soon Bruce learned that Clint Barton was… just that stupid. And Bruce found that very endearing, even if alarmingly dangerous and completely insane. When Clint was’t a perfectly trained in every way master assassin, he was like a child most of the time, and with childish naivety he trusted Bruce to be just Bruce. 

Bruce came to… like it. 

"What are you thinking about?" Clint asked, putting a six-pack into their cart.

"Just… stuff," Bruce mumbled awkwardly. He couldn’t have just said he was thinking about Clint, could he?

"Stuff as in, Did I remember to turn off the lights or, What is our purpose in this world? Because let me tell you, when I’m shopping I’m more likely to be thinking about the meaning of life than when I’m on a mission."

"You’re… weird."

"And you’re avoiding the question. Come on, let me in a little. I wanna know what’s going on in that big brain of yours."

"I wasn’t thinking about anything. Really. Did you get everything? Can we go now? Please?"

Clint hummed and looked at Bruce with narrowed eyes. He crabbed the cart and turned his back to Bruce, starting to walk ahead. 

"I bet you were thinking about how good I look in those jeans, that’s why you’re being so secretive."

Bruce’s eyes widened in surprise and automatically landed on Clint’s ass. He felt himself blush. Oh gods, he really did fill them nicely. He could hear Clint chuckle and he dropped his eyes to his hands, nervously wringing his t-shirt. 

"Come on, let’s get out of here before you Hulk out or something, you dork. I was just joking. I know you were thinking about how awesome I am _in addition_ to having a great ass.”

Bruce nearly choked on his own saliva, which was pathetic, but still better than tripping over his own feet.

Clint didn’t really say anything after that, but when they left the store he slipped his hand in Bruce’s and squeezed gently, winking at him like a smug brat he was.

Bruce looked away but squeezed Clint’s hand back anyway. 


	2. Chapter 2

So maybe taking Hulk with him on this mission was a bad idea. Sure, he took care of the big bad’s, but when all was said and done, it was just Hulk and Clint in the middle of a forest, with all this snow around them, and Clint just couldn’t _not to!_

As soon as the snowball splashed between Hulk’s eyes, Clint wished he did miss from time to time. The roar Hulk gave out startled the birds from the trees and all Clint could do was to run. It was a humanitarian way of wearing Hulk out and getting Bruce to come out.

And maybe Clint enjoyed himself a little bit. Just a bit. 

Well, at leas until Hulk caught up to him and tackled him into the snow, completely burying him underneath it. That was the predictable part of their “play.” The surprising part was Hulk cradling Clint in his giant arms and… hugging him. 

"Cupid friend."

Clint would neither confirm nor deny whether he whimpered, completely unable to handle the sheer  _cute_. He wrapped both of his arms around Hulk’s forearm and rubbed his cheek against it, and Hulk’s satisfied hum re-vibrated through Clint’s whole body. It was so warm and so… safe. Weird. Clint couldn’t remember the last time he felt safe without Natasha by his side. 

Suddenly, Hulk got up and started carrying Clint to wherever he decided to go. When Clint realized that place was the lake, he started to getting nervous. Would the ice hold Hulk’s weight? Would he hold Hulk’s weight if he dared to interfere in his plan? 

Before he could even reach any decision, Hulk jumped and landed right in the middle of the lake. Clint could feel relief washing over him when they ice didn’t give out. It was the most amazing half a second of his life.

He yelped and managed to draw a breath before he sunk into the ice-cold lake water. No biggy. Hulk was going to save him, that was for sure.

As sure as that Bruce would kill him afterwards. 


	3. Chapter 3

"Hulk, no! Put me  _down!_  Now!”

Clint wanted to die. Well not really, maybe just a little. This was simply embarrassing - being hugged, of all things, by Hulk, of all people, in front of a smashed building, of all places. Clint’s face was mushed against Hulk’s huge arm but he could still  _hear_  the flashes and clicks and giggles and other sounds that were definite proof of this situation being thoroughly documented by clearly amused population of Harlem.

"Hulk, please, let go!" Clint cried in desperation. 

"But Hulk loves birdy!"

If Clint didn’t really want to die before, the  _awwww_  that went through the crowed gathered around them surely made him want to, because  _that_  was definitely going to hit the papers. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Demon AU

"My first foray into dark magic probably shouldn’t have been demon summoning," Clint mumbled as a huge giant enormous green monster was looming over him and Natasha. 

She rolled her eyes and Clint knew she didn’t kick him in the head only because she was too cautious to move at all. The monster growled and Clint gulped. Nat shot him a dirty look saying she would get him for this later, if they survived that is.

"Maybe it’s friendly?" Clint let out a shaky laugh but he really just wanted to cry. He finally forced himself to look the monster in the eye. "Are you?"

The green beast suddenly burst into laughter. Clint wasn’t sure if he died from shock  _before_  or  _after_ that happened. He glanced at Natasha and she seemed equally astounded. Then the monster started getting smaller and… less green. Clint’s breath hitched; that was…  _so cool!_

"You’re funny!" said the scrawny man in glasses that was currently standing in front of them. "I like you! And I’m very friendly, but only if you feed me peanut butter. You wouldn’t like me when I’m hungry. I’m Bruce, by the way. Now, let’s go grab something to eat and talk business."


	5. Chapter 5

"Clint, did what I think happened actually happen or you’re hiding a pink lava lamp in there?" Bruce asked with an amused chuckle, pointing at boxers Clint was wearing.

Clint shrugged, embarrassed. "Uh, yeah, a classic mistake, one of your socks got tangled with my white stuff…"

Bruce giggled a little nervously and scratched the back of his head. Clint look at him with confusion. Wasn’t Clint supposed to be the one embarrassed? “Bruce?”

"No, it’s nothing, I was just thinking that… it would probably be more sexy to get your underwear pink from a woman’s lingerie than some old boring guy’s sock."

Clint blinked. Bruce’s cheeks were the color of his boxers now and he couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “So you’re saying I  _don’t_  look sexy on those? Because I think I’m rocking this look if I may say so myself. I may even switch from purple t-“

"Please don’t!" Bruce interrupted. "I mean, not that you look particularly bad in pink, you just… look better in purple."

Clint beamed at Bruce, who was completely red at this point, and wriggled his eyebrows. Bruce looked a bit confused but not for long - Clint wasn’t  _that_  hard to figure out, _especially_  when he was hard. Bruce cleared his throat as Clint took a step closer to him.

"Just admit you think I look bad in pink and get this eyesore off me."


End file.
